


Not in the Job Description

by hostilovi



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Awkward Flirting, Denial of Feelings, Light Angst, M/M, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-13
Updated: 2016-08-13
Packaged: 2018-08-08 13:48:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7760200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hostilovi/pseuds/hostilovi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Midorima didn’t know what he had done to deserve this.</p>
<p>The universe was testing him. Surely that must be the reason for—</p>
<p>“Shin-chan, I’ve got those printouts you wanted,” Takao said from the doorway, waving said papers at him.</p>
<p>“Please don’t toss them about like that,” he said, doing his best to sound stern when really all he wanted to do was lay his head down on his desk and sigh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not in the Job Description

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Felifay](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Felifay/gifts).



Midorima didn’t know what he had done to deserve this.

The universe was testing him. Surely that must be the reason for—

“Shin-chan, I’ve got those printouts you wanted,” Takao said from the doorway, waving said papers at him.

“Please don’t toss them about like that,” he said, doing his best to sound stern when really all he wanted to do was lay his head down on his desk and  _sigh._

“Sure thing, Shin-chan.” He entered the office and put them in a neat pile on the desk, all the while smiling. “Anything else I can do? Need some more coffee?”

“Getting my coffee is not your job.”

“Nah, but it’s nice, isn’t it? I was going to grab some for myself anyway.”

“I’m fine.” Midorima stared at the printouts instead of meeting Takao’s gaze. “Thank you,” he added stiffly, because it was the proper thing to say. Takao left after giving him a cheery salute and a reminder of his upcoming meeting in half an hour. Midorima narrowly suppressed the urge to groan after he left.

The universe was testing him. That was the only possible answer.

Why else would he have ended up with Takao Kazunari as his secretary?

He exhaled slowly and pulled the printouts towards him. He had to focus. If he lost focus, he lost everything.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 He should never have transferred to the big city; maybe that was it. Back at his old office, he hadn’t had a secretary. There had been no need, with such a condensed workforce. But then he had been offered a promotion that came with a transfer order—an offer that, with his mother and little sister to support, was unthinkable to refuse.

Working in the business world had never been his dream, but he was  _good_  at it. And people took notice of that.

Takao was also good at his job, but he had let this  _thing_  go on long enough.

 “Takao, a word if you please.”

“Sure thing, Shin-chan!” he said cheerfully, hopping up from his desk and following Midorima into his office. When Midorima shut the door, he raised his eyebrows.

“Oh my, are we about to have words, Shin-chan?”

“Please sit down.”

He sat. Midorima took his chair across from him, trying to compose himself.

“As my secretary—”

Takao frowned. “Administrative assistant,” he corrected. Midorima adjusted his glasses with a sigh.

“As my  _administrative assistant_ , I find your insistence on calling me by such a childish nickname to be inappropriate when done around others. It deliberately undermines my authority.”

Takao was still frowning but he looked more thoughtful. “Your only objection is when I call you Shin-chan in front of other people?”

“I—”

“Does that give me permission to call you Shin-chan in private?”

Midorima rubbed at his temples. “If you must. I’d prefer if you didn’t say it at all.”

“But calling you Midorima is just—so stuffy! Totally not my style. We’re the same age, after all.”

“We are in a professional environment, Takao. You would do best to heed that.”

Takao sighed, folding his arms and leaning back comfortably in the chair as he observed Midorima with his too-sharp eyes. “Point taken. But I reserve the right to call Shin-chan by Shin-chan when we are alone.”

“We are never alone, Takao. This is an office building.”

“Well, we’ll just have to fix that, won’t we?” He was smiling again. Midorima couldn’t shake the feeling that he was implying something, but he didn’t know what.

“I think not,” he said, just to say something. It only made Takao laugh.

“Don’t worry, I won’t go around undermining your authority anymore. You know that’s not how I meant it, right?” He reached across the desk and clapped a solid hand to Midorima’s shoulder. “I better get back out there. The phones have been ringing like wild today. Good chatting with you, Shin-chan.”

With that, he left, breezing out of the office like he owned the place.

As always, Midorima wasn’t quite sure what to think of him.

The rest of the day passed without incident. Whenever Midorima stepped outside of his office, Takao pointedly called him by his surname or made no mention of his name at all. It made him twitchy to the point when he heard Takao’s voice he internally flinched.

“Did the two of you have a fight?” one of his co-workers asked him in an undertone after a meeting ended that afternoon.

“I’m sorry?”

“You and your admin. Usually the two of you are pretty casual—and it’s nice to see that you get along so well, to be honest. You don’t get that a lot in this kind of place.”

“It’s nothing,” Midorima assured him. He couldn’t help thinking that he’d made a mistake, bringing Takao to task. But he also couldn’t risk being seen as too soft-hearted in an industry known for being cutthroat. He was too much younger than his peers to get away with it.

So distracted was he that he left his lucky item in his office and had to go back for it at the end of the day.

“Forget something?” Takao said with raised brows when he returned. Midorima frowned.

“I thought you left already.”

“I was just about to,” he glanced around, “Shin-chan.”

Midorima gritted his teeth but calmly walked into his office and retrieved the small ceramic frog from his desk. Takao stood waiting for him with a faint smile.

“Let’s leave together,” Takao offered. It would be rude to decline, so Midorima inclined his head in acknowledgement and they left the building walking side-by-side.

“How’d I do today? Pretty good right, what with calling you by the right name?”

“Your behavior was acceptable.”

“Glad to hear it, Shin-chan.”

When he saw Midorima tense up, he sighed. “Come on, we’re out of the building even. It wouldn’t hurt you to lighten up a little, you know? You’re not carrying the weight of the world here.”

“I’m well aware—”

“I think you forget.” Takao nudged him with his elbow. “So consider this a friendly reminder.”

They chatted the whole way to the train station. Or rather, Takao chatted and Midorima made the occasional comment when necessary. He wasn’t much for small talk.

When it came time to part ways, Takao smiled up at him.

“We should do this more often, you know, since we have to walk to same way.”

Before Midorima could say anything, Takao touched his arm and was gone, vanishing into the crowd. The place where he had touched him tingled with the remembered pressure. The walk had seemed shorter, together. And it wasn’t as though Midorima disliked Takao.

There could be no harm in it, surely.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Midorima hated Takao.

“I told you that I don’t celebrate my birthday,” he said through his teeth when he managed to escape some of his well-wishers in the breakroom. All he had wanted was some coffee, but he had found nearly the whole floor lying in wait for him with refreshments and decorations. Takao shook his head.

“Everyone celebrates their birthday. It would look suspicious if we just skipped right over yours.”

Midorima grabbed his arm, pulling him into a corner when it looked like someone else might come over and try to talk to him. Takao’s eyes were wide as he looked up at Midorima, but he came along without a fuss.

“I don’t celebrate my birthday,” he repeated. “You’re the only one around here who knew the date. I trusted you to keep that confidential.”

“Well, I’m sorry that you’re upset, Shin-chan,” he said, laying his hand over where Midorima still held onto him. “But you never told me it was  _confidential._ ”

Hadn’t he? As he frantically thought back, Midorima couldn’t find the memory of having that exact conversation with Takao.

In that moment, he became oddly aware of Takao’s touch on his bare hand and jerked away, straightening up. Takao just smiled, a strange look that Midorima couldn’t name in his intent gaze.

“Hey, birthday boy, c’mon over!” one of his co-workers called out to him, lifting up a box and waving it at him. “We all pitched in on this!”

Midorima shot Takao a sideways glare. He only shrugged and gestured for Midorima to go over.

A few nice words were said, about how Midorima excelled at his job and was a valuable asset to the company—nothing, he noticed, about being a friend to any of them, which was only the truth of the matter. The little white box was handed over to him with great ceremony and he was forced to open in front of all them.

He stared down at the contents of the box, uncertain of what he should say. He licked his lips before beginning, his eyes automatically going to Takao, who shot him an encouraging smile.

“Thank you, everyone. I will cherish this gift.”

“Speech, speech!” someone called out and Midorima reddened.

“It has been my pleasure to work with all of this these past few months. I hope for many more successful years to come. Thank you,” he said all in a rush, executing a short bow to the room at large. People clapped politely, and it was over.

A paper plate with cake was placed into his hands, but Midorima was thankfully able to make a quick escape after his ‘speech’.

“Shin-chan! Shin-chan, hey, wait up,” Takao called after him.

Midorima whirled on him.

“I told you not to call me that.”

“There’s no one here,” Takao said with a frown, gesturing around the empty hallway. “And you said—”

“I know what I said.”

Silence fell between them. Midorima looked at the bright yellow frosting roses on the cake in favor of avoiding Takao’s concerned gaze.

“What did you want?” he managed to ask.

“Look, I’m sorry we made your birthday into a big thing, but there’s a lot of people here who really like you, you know?”

“I doubt that.”

“ _I_ really like you. Can you believe that?”

More silence.

“Glare any harder and your cake might burst into flames.”

Midorima shoved the plate into his hands.

“I have to go.”

He fled to the bathroom, shoving the box into his pocket. It was thankfully empty so Midorima locked himself in one of the stalls, burying his face in his hands. He wanted to scream but he kept quiet, quiet, quiet.

When he emerged ten minutes later, he felt calmer and his hands no longer shook. He made his way to his office, nodding in greeting to those that passed by. Takao shot him a look but let him pass by his desk without a word.

The cake sat on the corner of his desk.

Midorima carefully set the box down, undoing his current cufflinks and trading them out for the new ones that everyone had helped buy for him. His birthstones winked in the light and Midorima had to admit they were the perfect gift.

He kept to himself the rest of the day.

Takao knocked quietly on his door towards the end of the business day, his suit jacket folded over his arms and wearing a hopeful smile.

“Would you like to walk home together?”

He had no way to refuse, really, so Midorima told him yes. They made their way down the elevators in silence, though he saw Takao glance down at his cuffs and grin.

“They were my idea,” he said once they were outside. “The cuff links. The ones you wear are pretty plain so I thought you could use an upgrade.”

“They were my father’s,” Midorima said shortly, not even sure why he said it. His heart was pounding a touch too fast, the sun was a touch too hot beating down on him. He felt rather far away from himself, the only thing grounding him being the occasional touch of Takao’s arm brushing up against his.

“Well, I’m sure he’d agree with me.”

“He’s dead.”

_Why did I say that?_

“Oh,  _Shin-chan_ , I’m sorry. I only meant—”

“It’s nothing,” he said quickly, eager to escape the conversation. He spotted a convenience store up ahead. “Excuse me. I have a purchase to make.”

“Whoa, no you don’t, Shin-chan. Today’s not even the day you go grocery shopping.” He caught Midorima’s elbow and dragged him back onto the path they were walking towards the train station, oblivious to the dirty looks other people shot them as Midorima was dragged through their path.

“Takao, please let go.”

“I’ll let go as soon as I’m sure you’re not going to run.”

“That would be exceedingly foolish.” Midorima forcibly pulled his arm away, feeling close to tears and overwhelmed. He hadn’t meant to say it, hadn’t meant to tell.

“He died on your birthday, didn’t he.”

Midorima finally looked at Takao. He found nothing but gentleness in those grey eyes. “How did you know?” he asked, wondering if the cemetery visit was also written on his calendar by mistake.

“Lucky guess,” Takao said, giving him a little half-smile. “Sorry, Shin-chan. Really.”

They walked in silence for a while. It would have been comfortable if not for Midorima actively trying not to cry like a child in the middle of the street. He hoped Takao couldn’t tell, but he saw too much, knew too much about him, it seemed.

“There’s a gift receipt. You can return them, if you want.”

“No.” Midorima touched the cufflinks. “They were a thoughtful gift.”

Takao touched his arm again. “Will you be okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Takao squeezed gently before letting go. “See you tomorrow, Shin-chan.”

“Goodnight, Takao.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Those are nice,” his mother said with surprise when he met her at the cemetery. He touched the cufflinks again.

“They were a gift.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you celebrating your birthday again. They must be a from a special friend,” she said, sounding rather pleased. Midorima opened his mouth to explain that they were only from work, but Takao’s image popped into his mind. He blinked a few times, taking a moment to compose himself.

“Yes,” he said. “They are.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Life went on, as it was apt to do.

He got landed with a huge project that his boss said he had every faith in him being able to complete successfully and then present to the company board. Midorima would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous, but all there was to do was to work and do his best. Man proposes, God disposes.

Midorima took to staying later and later at work as the deadline approached, which meant no more walking home with Takao. That was probably for the best. He didn’t quite understand the pull the other man had on him.

“I’m headed home, do you need anything before I leave?”

Midorima’s head snapped up from his computer, hands stuttering to a stop on the keyboard as the sound of Takao’s voice broke the silence of his office. They stared at each other, Midorima in still in faint shock, Takao with raised brows.

“Yeah, okay, you need a break.”

“I already took a break.” Midorima looked back at the screen but he couldn’t figure out what he had been going to type. He  _tsk_ ed softly to himself.

“Obviously not for long enough. Did you even eat today?”

As Midorima thought the question over, Takao sighed and marched over, manhandling him up out of his chair. “All right, let’s go, wonder boy. We’re getting dinner.”

“I have work to finish—”

“I assure you, it’s not going to run off while you take a few minutes to eat.”

Midorima couldn’t argue with that. Now that Takao had brought it up, his stomach was protesting its continuing emptiness.

They ended up going to the nearby convenience store for some pre-packaged food and brought it back to the office, but it was better than nothing. They laid out the spread over Midorima’s desk, and only then did Midorima think to question Takao’s presence.

“Shouldn’t you be getting home?”

“I can stay a little longer yet,” he said with a shrug, chewing on one of the riceballs. “And maybe I can help with this project from hell you’re stuck on.”

“That’s not within the perimeters of your job,” Midorima said, taking a long drink from his can of red bean soup.

“Maybe not. But I can still help, if you want. I’m your assistant.”

“Fine,” Midorima said. He wasn’t sure why he said it. Normally he’d be happy to work on his own, but tonight, the idea of Takao’s company felt right.

Takao smiled around his mouthful of food. Midorima grimaced in his direction.

They made quick work of their meal. Midorima had to admit, he felt fresher as he delegated a few minor tasks to Takao and went back to work on the project. There was still the matter of creating a presentation out of the information he was compiling, but he wasn’t going to worry about that tonight.

When Takao placed a few papers down on his desk, he flinched in surprise, having been fully immersed in what he was writing out.

“Sorry,” he said, something soft about his smile as he perched on the edge of the desk instead of taking a seat in the chair. “Didn’t mean to scare you there, Shin-chan.”

“I wasn’t scared.”

“Oh?”

“I was merely preoccupied. Your presence was unexpected.”

“Unexpected but not unwanted, I hope.”

Midorima frowned at him, losing his train of thought completely. He touched his cufflinks out of reflex as Takao’s gaze searched his face.

“Don’t ask ridiculous questions.”

Takao stood, walking around the desk and peering at what Midorima was working on. This brought their faces quite close together, Midorima couldn’t help noticing, his eyes dancing across the sharp line of Takao’s jaw, the upward curve of his wide lips, the small crinkles at the corner of his eyes just starting to form.

“This is a lot of work,” Takao said, sounding impressed. “You really are a—”

_Machine?_

_Robot?_

_Nerd?_

The memory of those words being thrown at him came back, unbidden and Midorima tensed, waiting for Takao’s judgement.

“—a wonder boy. I don’t get how you do it.”

Midorima colored at the compliment.

“I put in the appropriate amount of effort, that’s all,” he said simply.

“Nah, it’s more than that, Shin-chan. You go above and beyond all expectations.”

“You have expectations of me?” The idea was discomfiting.

“In a way, I guess. Doesn’t everyone have expectations of each other? Of what they think other people will be like, if nothing else?” Takao shook his head a little, his hair brushing the side of Midorima’s face as his did so. It seemed like he might say more, but Takao turned his face to look at him and he fell silent.

They were too close by far.

Midorima should have moved back but he was frozen, anticipation tight in his stomach. Waiting for the high arch of his ball to finally fall and swish through the net.

Midorima stood abruptly. He couldn’t do—whatever this was. But Takao moved with him, his escape effectively blocked, face tilted up towards him with a curious smile on his lips.

“What about you, Shin-chan? Any expectations of me?”

“None,” he croaked out. “I expect you to fulfill the requirements of your job description, nothing more.”

Takao laughed a little.

“You’re a shitty liar, you know that, Shin-chan?”

And then Takao was kissing him. It felt like a natural progression and for a moment, Midorima held still, opening his mouth willingly to him.

Then he came back to senses.

“Not—Not here,” Midorima gasped out, holding Takao at arm’s length. His heart was pounding in his ears and his lips tingled. Takao’s eyes were as sharp as ever. He smiled crookedly at Midorima, not fighting against his hold, but instead placing his hands over Midorima’s.

“Okay,” he said, gentle. “Okay, Shin-chan.”

“I need to go.”

A small line appeared between Takao’s brows. “The project—”

“It’s nothing I can’t finish at home.” Midorima was already dropping his hands, quickly gathering up the necessary documents and taking a seat to retrieve the files he would need from his computer. Takao leaned against the desk, silent as he waited.

They left together. It was unavoidable.

There was a new tension between them, something warm and bright and taut. A single glowing thread. Midorima remained painfully aware of Takao’s presence by his side, of every time their arms brushed.

“Goodnight,” he said stiffly when it came time to part ways at the station. At this hour, it was all but empty. Takao leaned in—for another kiss. Midorima took a smooth step backwards, panic tight in his throat. Takao sighed, but let it go, something tender in his gaze.

“I’ll see you in the morning, Shin-chan.”

Once he was gone, Midorima let himself collapse on one of the benches, putting his head between his knees as his stomach churned.

_What if someone had seen?_

_What if someone finds out?_

_Why did I let him do that?_

He knew why. He knew exactly why. There had always been an attraction between them, two moons in the same orbit, moving in a slow dance around each other.

Midorima had just never expected them to collide.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was easy to dismiss the kiss as nothing—as a mistake—as Midorima got ready the next morning, moving slow from a lack of sleep. He didn’t remember when he had finally gotten to bed, but it hadn’t been until the pass of night to day.

A mistake, he tried to convince himself as he rode the train in, as he went up the elevators to the company’s floor.

Takao was already there.

“Good morning, Shin—Midorima.” His smile was soft and he held up a coffee cup in offering. Midorima took it, nearly dropping the mug when their fingers brushed, sending electric sparks up his arm.

“Good, ah, morning,” he stumbled over the simple greeting and fled to his office.

He stayed holed up in his office except to go to the few meetings he had that day. Each time he bustled quickly past Takao, not giving him an opportunity to speak to him—or vice versa. He couldn’t face him after what happened yesterday.

He wasn’t sure if he could _ever_ face him again.

Just as he was getting ready to make him escape for the day, Takao slipped inside his office, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

“You’re avoiding me.”

“Am not,” he spat out, perfectly aware that he was being petty and childish, standing and shoving papers into his briefcase at random. He needed to get out of this office, _now._

“You are. Is this because of yesterday? Because I kiss—”

“Don’t,” Midorima hissed, going red, and Takao cut himself off. “Don’t say that. I’m not avoiding you, I was merely busy.”

“You remember that I said you’re a shitty liar, right?” He raised one brow, slowly approaching him. Midorima felt like he was being stalked like a predator and he was the prey. “Look, I just think we should maybe talk about it. You seem pretty freaked.”

“I’m fine. There’s nothing to talk about, because it won’t be happening again.”

Takao was close enough to touch now. His shirt collar was rumpled and his fingers itched to reach out and adjust it for him.

“You can’t honestly say, Shin-chan,” he said, voice low and damningly hypnotic, “that you didn’t enjoy it.”

“T-That’s beside the point entirely. It’s unbecoming of bosses to fraternize with their staff members.”

Takao hummed in his throat.

“So if I weren’t a staff member, you would…fraternize with me?”

Midorima honestly hadn’t thought about it.

That was a lie. Takao had been all he thought about, all last night. But he hadn’t thought about it from that angle.

_I don’t know,_ he wanted to say. _I don’t know anything anymore._

He had never had much of an attraction to any person of any gender before, but he could recognize that that was what he felt towards Takao. It threw him completely off-balance.

Takao had somehow moved closer. Midorima fought the urge to back away, refusing to be cowed by his assistant.

“I’m going to kiss you again,” he murmured, pulling Midorima forward by his belt loops.

“Not here,” he said, still desperate to escape both this situation and his own desire to kiss Takao back.

“Then where?”

“I don’t—”

A knock came at the door. Midorima quickly moved away from Takao, going to answer it. It was just one of his co-workers with a quick question that he was able to answer. They left. Midorima kept the door open and scooped up his briefcase, not looking at Takao.

“Shin-chan,” he started, voice soft.

“Not here,” he said, harsher than he intended. Takao nodded, walking his way.

Midorima couldn’t help reaching out this time, to fix his collar. Takao stared at him as though transfixed. Midorima could feel his pulse thudding when his fingers brushed up against his neck.

“It was crooked,” he whispered, and then nearly ran from the office.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Their days went on like that for some time, the tension grow ever more palpable between them. Midorima was thankful for the project to distract him, for the late nights he worked to keep him occupied with thoughts of work instead of thoughts of Takao.

Not that he wasn’t thinking of Takao. He was.

Incessantly.

Takao managed corner him after work one day, insisting that they walk home together again. Midorima had no way to refuse him. Nor, particularly, the desire to do so.

“Hey, do you have time? We could go to dinner, if you want.”

His life had been nothing but work lately.

“I have time,” he said, cursing himself even as he said it. Nothing good could come of spending more alone time with Takao, not if he wanted to fight off these feelings. But the smile on Takao’s face was worth it.

It was easy, being with him, in a way that he had felt with no one else. Even being with his old friends from school weren’t quite the same as being with Takao.

He had considered texting some of them, asking for advice, but decided against it at the last moment. Kise would gush too much, Kuroko would no doubt tease him, and Akashi—he wasn’t sure what Akashi would say. Murasakibara would be of no help in this situation, but he had texted him anyway after seeing his poorly ranked horoscope that morning.

All he had received in return was a _thanks, Mido-chin_ , but the normalcy of it had been calming.

“Hey,” Takao dropped his hand on top of Midorima’s and left it there for a few beats. Midorima realized that he hadn’t been listening to a word Takao had been saying. “Are you really okay? You seem pretty far away right now.”

“I’m fine. I was thinking.”

“About?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with.”

Takao made a show of rolling his eyes. He removed his hand, brushing back some of the hair that was falling into his eyes. Midorima followed the motion, entranced by the delicate-seeming length of his fingers, the smoothness of his skin.

“If it concerns you, it concerns me.”

“It is of no consequence.”

“C’mon, Shin-chan, this is _me._ What are you so afraid of?”

_Of letting go. Letting myself give in to these feelings._

“I was thinking of my school friends, that’s all,” he said, feeling unbearably awkward. Takao nodded in encouragement, but Midorima could think of nothing else to say.

“You must miss them.”

Miss them? He did. In a way. Moving for his job meant moving away from them, and he was fearful that the older they got, the more apart they would grow.

They ordered their food, ate in a companionable silence punctuated by a few comments from Takao, a few questions about his years playing basketball. Takao had seen the pictures he kept displayed neatly on his desk, after all, and he, too, had played basketball at one point.

“I played against your team, once,” he said, after swallowing a mouthful of food.

“I don’t recall you.”

“Nah, I figured you wouldn’t. You beat us by an incredible margin.”

That was the way it had been against all teams.

“Well, time to go, I guess.” Their plates had been cleared for a while now. Midorima nodded, gathering his things, and they left the restaurant, moving smoothly in step. The walk to the train station was quiet. Takao walked too close to him, but Midorima didn’t have the wherewithal to move away.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Shin-chan,” he said with a gentle smile. “Don’t stay up too late working.”

“I will endeavor not to.”

Midorima turned to leave but Takao caught him by the arm, stepping close. A kiss. He was going in for a kiss. Midorima hastily pulled away.

“Not here,” he said.

Takao sighed.

“There’s no one around to see, if that’s what you’re worried about.” Indeed, there was only a pair of school kids waiting for the train and their backs were turned. Midorima swallowed hard and shook his head mutely.

Takao took hold of his hand, bringing up to his lips and kissing his knuckles instead.

Midorima felt oddly faint at the gesture.

“Goodnight, wonder boy.”

It was only after Takao had disappeared into the night that Midorima managed to whisper _goodnight, Takao,_ back to him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Let’s go for a walk.”

They had been walking home after another late night working on the project. He shouldn’t have allowed Takao to stay.

“We are walking.”

“I mean, by the river. It’s a nice evening for it, don’t you think?”

Midorima agreed with a sigh, hoping the walk would clear his head, even if Takao’s continued presence brought butterflies to his stomach. They changed directions, heading down to the river.

When Takao sat on one of the benches, Midorima took a seat next to him, making sure to keep a respectable distance between them.

He wasn’t sure why he bothered, because Takao immediately moved over into his space, until their shoulders bumped together. He was talking about—something. Midorima was more fixated on the motion of his lips than the actual words he was saying.

“Look, Shin-chan, a star!”

He looked up and indeed, there was one lonely star in the sky. A tiny smile tugged at his lips at the sight. When he looked back over to Takao, he was staring at him intently.

Takao leaned in. For a kiss, Midorima knew. He automatically leaned back, heart pounding too fast and face going red. He wanted to kiss him too, but he just couldn’t. Not until he sorted out his feelings, not until he really thought this through.

Takao’s face fell. He looked away, to the river.

“We’re not at work, and there’s no one around, so what’s the excuse now?” he asked, voice even and steady.

“Takao—”

“If you don’t want me to pursue you, all you have to say is no. I’ll back off.”

Midorima didn’t know what he wanted. He tried to search for the right words, but nothing came to him.

“I won’t say no,” he said eventually.”

“Yet you spurn all my advances.”

Midorima looked away from him, unable to explain himself, his confusion over these new feelings, his fears of trust and intimacy.

“Am I ever going to be good enough for you?”

Midorima was stunned by the question. Surely he could see that he trusted Takao as he trusted no one else—wanted him as he wanted no one else. But before he could think of anything to say, Takao stood, gathering up his briefcase.

“You’re off the hook this time, Shin-chan, no need to tell me that excuse. I’m going home.”

Midorima couldn’t help feeling that he was the one being rejected now. It stung. He swallowed back his weak protests. Takao didn’t need to hear that right now.

“You’re not even going to try to stop me, are you?” Takao said with a bitter sounding laugh.

“You’ve obviously made up your mind to leave,” Midorima replied stiffly. “Who am I to stop you?”

Takao snorted. “Right. Put the blame on me. Well, see you at work, Shin-chan.”

And with that, he was gone. Midorima watched his retreating back until he vanished from sight. Then he turned his gaze to the river.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed there, but it was completely dark by the time he managed to stand and walk away. He kept expecting Takao to come running back, to say he didn’t mean it. To say that everything was going to be okay.

He didn’t.

He didn’t come back.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Takao was not present at work the next day.

Nor the next, nor the next.

In a fit of irritation, he looked up Takao’s address and made up his mind to go and visit him and get all these feelings of his chest, once and for all.

“Is Takao sick?” one of his co-workers asked him worriedly.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“You two seem so close, I thought you would know.”

Midorima nearly choked on his coffee. His co-worker sighed, not noticing, and asked him to keep him updated on the situation before leaving his office. Another one of the administrative assistants around the office was helping him out, fielding calls and arranging his meetings. It wasn’t the same as having Takao. They weren’t as efficient, they didn’t understand him in the way that Takao did.

He needed Takao back. That much he knew.

He wanted to be able to kiss Takao. That much he knew, too.

Maybe that would have to be enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Takao was slow to answer the door when he knocked.

His face was shocked when he saw Midorima standing there, obviously having come over straight from work.

“Takao,” Midorima started, then stopped, unable to find any of the words he had been rehearsing on his way over. Takao seemed to get over his initial shock at seeing him, and Midorima could see the walls drop down in his eyes even though he smiled.

“Shin-chan,” he said easily, “what are you doing here? Actually, better question—how did you know where I live?”

“The company keeps emergency records—”

“—which are classified.”

“And are available to your superiors.”

That was clearly the wrong thing to say, because he laughed. It was bitter sounding, lacking the usual warmth his laughter had. “And we all know how  _superior_ you are to me.”

“That’s not what I came here to say.”

Takao leaned one shoulder against the doorframe, folding his arms across his chest. Midorima would have preferred it if he would at least glare instead of that horrible smiling expression that felt like a knife to his gut. “So say what you came to say. And then you’ll forgive me if I ask you to leave. Long day, you understand.”

“Can I—”

“No, you may not come in.”

“Don’t be childish, Takao. Do you really want your neighbors to hear everything?”

Takao stayed put, arching one brow at him. Midorima fidgeted for a few moments, trying to compose himself and gather his thoughts back together.

“I came to apologize,” he said stiffly, at long last. Takao snorted, but waved for him to continue when Midorima stopped. “For how I’ve been treating you.”

“Apology accepted.” Takao made a move to close the door in his face, but Midorima caught it before he could.

“I’m not finished.”

“Shin-chan…” Takao blinked rapidly, looking away from him with his jaw clenched tight. “I can’t do this. I just can’t. One minute we’re fine, we’re flirting, things are going great. The next you’re back to ignoring me or plain shutting me out—and I can’t.”

“Please,” he ground out. “Let me finish.”

One of Takao’s neighbors came out of their apartment, pausing when he saw them standing there on the threshold. With an aggrieved sigh, Takao stepped back, gesturing for him to come inside.

Midorima stayed in the entryway. He could at least recognize when he was not welcome.

“I’ve never felt—never had a relationship like ours,” he started again.

“So you’ll admit what we have is a relationship.”

“I never denied it.”

“If you say so. So you’ve never had a relationship with another man, and that’s why you’ve decided the best course of action is to act like a jackass.”

_You don’t understand,_  Midorima felt like yelling. Instead he took a breath, waited a beat.

“I’ve never had a relationship, at all. And I already apologized for my behavior.”

That seemed to throw Takao off, briefly. “What, a fine specimen like you?”

Midorima didn’t think comment dignified a response. “I’m…lost when it comes to you. I don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That much is pretty obvious, Shin-chan.” His voice was softer though and he didn’t seem as closed off before. Midorima decided it was time to push his point.

“I want to continue what we have.” Midorima paused for effect, pushing up his glasses that had started to slide down. “If you are amenable.”

Takao bit his lip, gaze searching his face for something. “What we have is pretty fucked up right now, you get that, don’t you?”

“I will aim to improve my efforts.”

That made him laugh—a real laugh this time. Midorima relaxed slightly at the familiarity of the sound.

“That’s what they all say. But I believe you.” Takao stepped forward into his space, tilting his head back to look up at him properly. “I’m willing to give this a shot, but you have to meet me halfway.”

“Meet you…”

“Be my boyfriend. Officially. None of this dancing around the issue.”

“There is a strict no fraternization clause—”

“I know, god, I know, would it kill you to be romantic for once in your life? Besides I’m handing in my two weeks soon. So it won’t be a problem.”

Midorima froze.

Takao was leaving?

“Relax, would you? I got a better job offer but it’s nearby.”

“I…was not aware you were looking,” he replied.

“You’re my boss, why would I tell you I was looking?”

_Because we’re also friends._  But they hadn’t been for the past week, not really. And everyone had their secrets to keep, their own selves to protect. Just as Midorima had been distancing himself from Takao in a misguided attempt to protect himself.

“You never gave me an answer, you know.”

“What?”

“I asked you to be my boyfriend.”

“I thought my answer was obvious.”

Takao took another step closer, so they were sharing the same air. Midorima caught his arms on reflex as he lifted them.

“Well, maybe I want you to spell it out for me.”

And then they were kissing.

It felt a lot like coming home, especially when Midorima let go of Takao’s arms, curling his fingers through his hair and letting Takao hold onto him like he had wanted to in the first place. His mouth was wet and wanting and familiar and Midorima hadn’t realized how much he had missed doing this, missed being together until this very moment.

Midorima ached for him.

“I hope,” Midorima said when they finally pulled apart, his voice rough and low, “that spelled it out to your liking.”

Takao laughed, his pupils blown wide and lips swollen. He laughed until he choked on a sob, and buried his face against Midorima’s chest. Midorima held him close, uncertain of where he had misspoken this time.

“I like you so much, Shin-chan,” he said, voice muffled and tiny. “I can’t begin to explain.”

“I, too, like you.” It seemed like the thing to say, even if all this pure honesty was starting to get to him.

“Yeah, you dumbass, I know.” He lifted his head, eyes teary and pressed a chaste kiss to his jawline. Midorima had nothing to say to that so he stayed silent, just holding him.

“I’m sorry,” he said eventually. “For turning you down so many times.”

“I’m sorry too.”

“You have nothing—”

“For pushing you. I felt like I kept pushing you.”

“Sometimes I need a good push,” he admitted, ears going red.

“Well, how about this. No more pushing from my side, no more running from yours.” Takao held onto him a little tighter. “Let’s try doing this the normal way.”

There was nothing all that normal about either of them, but it didn’t seem like the time to bring that up.

“Okay,” he agreed.

“You should get home. It’s late.” Takao bit his lip. “I’d invite you to stay, but I don’t think it’s the right time.”

“No.”

“Not yet, anyway. We’ll get there.”

They would get there together.

Midorima nodded and he left, in better spirits than he could remember ever being. His heart felt light. The confusion was still there, he was still afraid of what a future with Takao would hold. But he wouldn’t have to figure it out alone.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

“Yo, Shin-chan, you’re going to be late to that presentation if you don’t hurry up,” Takao said, bursting into his office. Midorima startled, looking up at him from where he had been trying to tie his tie with increasing frustration as the knot kept turning out wrong.

Takao shook his head, batting his hands away, and tied it for him.

It was perfect.

“Thank you.”

“You’re gonna do great, Shin-chan. I believe in you.”

“I’ve done all that I can,” Midorima said, still feeling better at hearing his words.

“Man proposes, God disposes, huh,” Takao said with a soft laugh. “You never change.”

Midorima glanced to the open door. No one was there.

“I could use a bit of luck, to go,” he said stiffly. Takao blinked in surprise, looking towards the open door too.

Then he leaned in and kissed him.

 “Knock ‘em dead, Shin-chan,” he said when he pulled back, smoothing his hands over Midorima’s shirt.

“That would rather defeat the purpose I think.”

“Oh my god,” he groaned. “Just go. Do your thing. And I’ll be here waiting for you when it’s over.”

Midorima nodded and left. He felt ready to take on the world, if they could do it together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


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